The House at the Corner of Third and Mirella
by madderreds
Summary: It has been six months since their quest for the Philosopher's Stone ended. Four months since they'd moved into the small house at the corner of Third and Mirella. They've made it a home, but still there is a distance between them. Elricest. AU after the finally battle, Brotherhood/Manga-verse.


It's been six months since their quest for the Philosopher's Stone had finally come to an end.

Four months since they'd moved into a small house just outside Central and settled into a normal routine: Al busily turning their house into a home, the first since they were kids, and Ed researching and making a mess of things. Ed chafed at the utter normalcy of things, said that he missed traveling and the sense of adventure, but Al loved it. Their newfound domesticity suited him well, and he found a delicious excitement in making a home with Ed.

After all had been said and done, the battle won, May had invited him back to Xing with her, to teach him alkhestry. Her enthusiasm and admiring eyes had made him blush, but the prospect had excited him. Learning, and eventually mastering, alkhestry had been an interest of his ever since he'd met the tiny girl from Xing.

He'd been about to say yes when he saw a flash of bright gold in the corner of his eye, and the intoxicating scent of cinnamon made him dizzy. _Edward_. He thought of them making a home together, making dinner together, living a normal life—_together_—and the thought of leaving for Xing was pushed from his mind. He would stay.

And so they'd all gone their separate ways: Ling, Lan Fan, and May had gone back to Xing, Izumi and Sig back to Dublith, and Mustang and Co. back to Central. Ed and Al, after a short visit to Risembool, followed suit, settling once more in Central. The first few weeks had been hectic: finding a house to live in, buying furniture and groceries, and putting away their few belongings. Every night, Al fell into his bed completely exhausted, but satisfied in a way that he'd never felt before.

Their first purchases, after all the necessities, had been alchemy books. Dozens of them. Al had certain misgivings about the purchase, but Ed pored over them every night, his hands feverishly turning pages and tracing transmutation circles into his palms. "I've lost my alchemy, Al," he'd said, his eyes glued to the pages, "but not my passion for it."

And so the weeks had passed in a complacent blur. One thing, however, remained unresolved.

Despite the little haven of domesticity that they'd created in the small house on the corner of Third and Mirella, there was a tension between the two that neither was willing to address.

Alphonse loved Edward. More than just as a brother—he loved Ed more than he'd ever loved anything else. That was why he'd given up his soul for Ed; he couldn't bear to be a part of a world where Ed did not exist—he couldn't live without his other half.

And Ed had given up his alchemy. For _him_.

_Ed had given up his alchemy for him._

Al wondered, even dared to hope, that meant Ed felt the same.

There were other signs, too. He'd seen the way that Ed's eyes followed him around the room and the way that they lingered on his lips whenever he spoke—it sent shivers down his spine. Al wanted Ed—wanted Ed's lips on his, wanted Ed's strong arms wrapped around him, he wanted it all. He wanted—but he had no idea how to cross the distance between them.

It was a Friday night, and Al was contentedly perusing one of their newer alchemy books, while Ed was not-so-contentedly pacing around the room, occasionally pausing mid-pace to glare at his younger brother. With an exaggerated groan, Ed threw himself onto the couch next to Al. Al looked at his older brother over the pages of his book and shook his head with a small smile.

"What is it, brother?"

"I'm boooooooooored."

"Find something to do."

"Entertain me." Al kept turning the pages of his book, ignoring his brother's tantrum.

Ed moaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. He pretended to be asleep, but Al could see his gold eyes blazing at him. When the younger Elric still didn't acknowledge him, he finally grabbed the book and slammed it shut. "We're going out," he announced, throwing the book in the general vicinity of the bookshelf, ignoring Al's yelp of protest. Al resolutely remained on the couch, glaring up at Ed.

"I was _reading_ that, brother. I don't want to go out—besides, we've already had dinner!"

Ed shrugged, nonplussed by the logic in Al's argument. Al crossed his arms, determined not to budge on the matter. "I'm not going out." He was taken aback by Ed's face suddenly inches from his own—Al tried not to think about how close Ed's lips were to his own.

"We're going out," he said slowly, his gold eyes meeting Al's bronze ones. "We're going out, and we will have fun." He gave Al a small smile, one that made Al's resolve melt. "Okay?"

"Okay, brother. If I really have to."

Ed grinned over his shoulder, already halfway to the door, their coats flung over his elbow.

"You do."

Normally, Al doesn't like bars. They're crowded, noisy, and… well, _dirty._ He doesn't like alcohol, either—but he stills finds himself sitting at a bar stool, nursing a beer. He doesn't like the taste of it much, but he _does_ like watching Ed play pool across the bar. Ed's winning, even though he's been drinking beer and his form is starting to get a little sloppy. Al likes the way the muscles in Ed's arm work as he makes his shot, and likes it even more when Ed bends over the pool table to gauge his next move. He blushes at the thought.

No one at the bar has bothered him—thankfully—beyond girls flashing coy glances in his direction and the bartender asking him if he wants a refill on his beer. By this point, he's had two beers and his mind is starting to get fuzzy. From across the room he catches Ed's eye and waves, the gesture nearly knocking him off balance. Ed laughs and winks at him, making Al tremble with want. If Ed doesn't kiss him tonight, he's going to scream. Or just kiss him.

Al isn't sure how many hours pass with him watching Ed from across the bar, but it never bores him. He's entranced by the curve of Ed's neck and by the way his throat moves when he chugs his beer. Sometimes a girl will sit next to him, all flirtatious eyes and coy smiles, and they'll flirt for a while. Everytime it happens, Al catches Ed staring from the pool tables, his gold eyes blazing with jealousy.

The girl sitting next to him—he can't remember her name—keeps leaning closer to him. He doesn't mind at first, especially when he sees Ed staring at him again. But then she's whispering in his ear, promising him things that make him blush and stammer. He's about to politely decline her offer when Ed is suddenly behind her, his face pinched with jealousy.

"Ready to go, Al?" It is not a question.

Al nods, and gets up from the bar, albeit clumsily. He stumbles as he walks—how many beers did he have?—and with an exasperated sigh, Ed wraps an arm around his waist to help him stand. Al blushes even harder.

The walk home isn't easy: Al can't seem to keep his balance, and Ed isn't too much better off than his younger brother. By the time they reach their doorstep, they've become a tangle of giggling arms and legs. Ed detangles himself from Al, searching through his pockets for the keys, cursing when he has to lean against the door for help him stand upright. Al giggles, his hand over his mouth, nearly doubled over in an effort to stay on his feet. Then he is falling, and he grabs Ed to keep himself steady. They both fall then, Ed not nearly sober enough to keep them both steady on their feet.

They land with a soft _thud!_ on the grass, Ed ending up on top of Al. Al stops giggling, distracted by the feel of his brother on top of him, pressing him into the ground. He opens his eyes and looks into Ed's, only inches above his own. They lay there for a moment, not saying anything, not looking away. Al can feel his heart beating faster in his chest, and then, without warning, Ed is kissing him.

_Ed is kissing him_.

The kiss is soft at first, just a gentle brushing of lips. But then Al wraps his arms around Ed's neck, pulling him closer and slipping his tongue inside Ed's mouth. Then the kissing is heavy, Ed's hands running down his sides, making Al squirm. He squirms even more when Ed rubs his erection through his jeans, his mouth hot on his neck; Al can feel him leaving marks on his skin. Al reaches down into Ed's pants in retaliation and grabs him, and is rewarded by Ed's muffled gasp in his neck. He's never done this before, and he squeezes experimentally, running his palm up and down Ed's dick, using Ed's moans as his guide. Ed reciprocates his actions, making his go slack and his mind go fuzzy. He can feel his breaths get shorter as Ed goes faster and kisses him deeply, nipping his lips and neck.

His orgasm seizes him and he cries out before Ed slams a hand over his mouth, his hand still moving on Al's dick. A few minutes pass until Al stops trembling and his breathing slows. Al starts to move his hand again, relishing Ed's groans against his lips. He ignores the uncomfortable wet spot forming between them, moving his hand faster and applying more pressure. Ed starts to thrust against his hand, his breath hitching. With a thrust and a grunt, Ed orgasms into Al's hand.

They lay in the grass together, waiting for their breathing to slow and their bodies to stop trembling.

Ed kisses him again, softly. "I love you, Al."

"I love you too, Ed."

Ed finally stands up, still clumsy from the alcohol, and helps Al get onto feet and into their bed. That night, they sleep curled around each other, Al nestled in Ed's arms, content at last.


End file.
